


All I Want for Christmas

by SMANGST



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Christmas, Episode: s08e09 Citizen Fang, Gen, M/M, Making Up, Not Canon Compliant, Season/Series 08, Sibling Incest, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-23
Updated: 2013-05-23
Packaged: 2017-12-12 16:52:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/813820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SMANGST/pseuds/SMANGST
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Christmas Eve and Sam has lost his Christmas spirit completely, but Dean has his own ways of cheering up his little brother.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All I Want for Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> Contains spoilers for season 8, episode 9: Citizen Fang.

It was Christmas Eve, which meant something special to most people: warmth, holiday cheer, time spent with loved ones, all those moments depicted in cheesy seasonal movies or described on Hallmark cards. For Sam Winchester, it was just another night. No reason to celebrate, no visions of sugarplums or flights of fancy. He'd given up on Christmas a long time ago, and this year he'd reached positively Grinch-like proportions.

At present, he was in a crappy motel room on the outskirts of Boise, Idaho, nursing a bottle of whiskey and trying not to think of the way the smoky burn reminded him of Dean's lips. Trying not to think of him at all, really, and failing miserably. Everything was Dean, no matter how he tried to distract himself, and the ache inside him was threatening to eat him alive. He'd thought it best to forego the eggnog and stick to whiskey; it would numb him more quickly.

It wasn't working. He'd finished nearly a full bottle but the ache was still there. All he could think about was that Dean - his partner, his brother, his lover for the better part of almost twelve years - had essentially chosen a vampire, a monster, over him. Not only that, but the way he'd tricked Sam into thinking Amelia was in trouble... that had been the final straw. When Sam found out, he'd hung up on Dean and left. Drove away and didn't look back, and he'd ended up, well... here, eventually. He hadn't answered any of Dean's calls or texts, making it pretty damn clear that Dean had fucked up.

He was polishing off the bottle of whiskey when he heard a sound outside. It was a sound he knew well - the unmistakable rumble of a 1967 Chevy Impala - and he swore to himself. He'd known it would only be a matter of time before Dean found him, but why tonight of all nights? 

Sure enough, mere seconds later there was a pounding at the door. "Sam! Open up! We gotta talk!"

An understatement if Sam ever heard one. He was starting to feel buzzed, a pleasant warmth washing over his face as he got to his feet, long legs carrying him to the door in easy, if teetering, strides. He opened the door, jaw set. Bitchface activated. "Now you want to talk? Okay. Let's talk." 

Upon really getting a good look at his brother, Dean's expression shifted from hopeful determination to guilt-riddled worry. He knew he'd fucked up this time, but he hadn't known it would affect Sam this badly. Still, that was why he was here. To make amends. Hopefully. "You at least gonna let me in? I'm freezing my ass off out here."

Sam stepped aside wordlessly, allowing Dean enough room to come inside. Closed the door, folded his arms, fixed Dean with a gaze that could easily wither flowers. "Let's hear it."

"Listen, Sam. I know I screwed up. I know I went too far this time, but you gotta understand I was just trying to keep you and Benny both safe. That's all. I didn't think it through. Now you got every right to be pissed, but you should know I've been driving myself nuts over this, trying to think up ways to make it up to you." He rubbed a hand over his chin, wanting Sam to say something - anything. His silence was deafening. "Anyway, it took longer than I wanted it to, but I think I figured out something that'll maybe get my point across."

He looked more nervous than Sam had seen him since he'd returned from Purgatory. It was actually somewhat refreshing, he thought, showing something akin to weakness. Maybe Dean - HIS Dean - was still in there after all. He nodded, urging Dean to continue.

"It was hard as hell to find... I had to enlist Cas's help, and even he had a hard time. Took almost the whole month after you ran off, but..." He was digging around in his jacket, searching the various pockets. "I think it's worth the wait. I hope so anyway." An expression of relief washed over his face as he located the object inside one of the inner pockets, withdrawing it slowly and opening his hand.

Sam's eyes widened, breath caught in his chest. It was the necklace he'd given Dean at Christmas so many years ago. The amulet Castiel had said could help locate God. The same one Dean had thrown away when all hope seemed lost, when he'd lost faith in God and fate and Sam and everything else. He'd been making a point, but it had wounded Sam deeply. Seeing it again now, resting comfortably in Dean's palm, was a shock. Plain and simple.

"Sammy, say somethin'." 

"This..." He cleared his throat, taking a moment to find his voice. "This is the best gift you could've given me."

Dean let out a slow breath, visibly relaxing. "Thought it would get my point across better than, you know, talking."

"Oh, no, yeah. I get it. No chick flick moments."

"You got that right." Dean flashed a smile. Brilliant. Genuine. A smile Sam hadn't seen in a long time.

"You going to put it on?"

"'Course I'm putting it on. Don't get your panties in a bunch." Dean slipped the familiar black cord around his neck, gently rolling the small metallic idol's head between his fingers. "Didn't realize how much I missed this thing." He hadn't formally apologized, but Sam knew that's what he was doing, in his own way. 

"I uh... I didn't get you anything." Sheepish, dimpled smile.

"You didn't know I was coming," Dean smiled again too, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "But if you insist, I've got a couple of ideas." He stepped closer, fingers slipping through the belt loops of Sam's jeans. He tugged possessively, slotting his hips against Sam's. "I think this year, you'll be my present." 

Sam was fighting a smile, and losing the battle. His lips curled up gently at the edges, and he shook his head as he glanced at the clock. 12:04. "Well, it's officially Christmas," he murmured, being less than subtle about pulling Dean toward the bed. "Guess you should unwrap me."

So he did.

And on earth, peace. Good will toward men.


End file.
